Proxy
by Amory Vain
Summary: It's not a date. Except for how it sort of almost maybe is. Logan/Alec implied Logan/Max ; warnings for nonexplicit sex.


Proxy [[772 Words]]**  
**_Dark Angel__  
_Logan/Alec, Logan/Max (unrequited)  
Set sometime post-Manticore; S2  
Angst, sex (non-explicit)

* * *

She was always so _quiet_. Logan would've missed her entrance if he hadn't been expecting it—the all-but-silent opening of a window, the barely-audible footsteps towards his kitchen.

"There's pasta, if you want it."

A pause, then unconcealed (but still quiet; she and her fellow X5's could never change that) movement. He wheeled himself towards the doorway, not wanting to pass the entire visit speaking through the wall. "I know you just came by for coffee, but I need your help with—

"Alec?"

The boy was leaning against the open fridge door, inspecting the contents of a plastic container. He looked up and offered that crooked grin, "You were expecting Max?"

"Yes, actually." Alec needed to learn to _knock_. Sneaking into people's homes would get him into trouble one day. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, of course."

"Oh, don't bother pretending, Logan." Alec spoke through a mouthful of cold spaghetti. He swallowed and licked sauce off his fingers before plunging them back into the bowl. "I know you don't like me that much."

"That's not true." Defensive was not a position Logan favored, but—"I'm only surprised."

"If that's really the case," Alec had marinara sauce smeared across the corner of his mouth. "Then let's hear about this project. I'm betting there's a payoff involved somewhere."

Logan snorted, "Of course, but the money's nothing when compared to the countless innocents you'd be protecting."

Alec rolled his eyes and shoved the near-empty container back into the fridge before turning back to Logan. "Of course. Now, let's hear it."

* * *

"I didn't know they'd be _armed_," Alec protested, raising his fingertips to explore a bruise flowering on one cheek. "You didn't say anything about weapons."

"Well," Logan opened drawers, collected bandages and salves and walked back to where Alec sat, perched on the edge of his couch. "I thought that was a given. But I guess I should've remembered who I was dealing with. Let me see your arm."

Alec offered the appendage, gritting his teeth when Logan peeled the shredded sleeve away from a particularly nasty scrape. "I thought I could take them."

The phrase made Logan smile, recalling Max and the overconfidence her species seemed prone to. "You think you can take _everybody_." He dabbed the torn flesh with disinfectant, watching Alec grit his teeth at the burning sensation.

"Well, usually I can." Alec's bravado had been untouched by the encounter, it seemed. Logan helped him off with his shirt to view the (thankfully minimal) damage, inspecting skin and feeling like someone's mother. It reminded him of times before, patching Max up after a job, before Alec and the virus had torn them apart.

Logan tested the injuries with his fingertips, suddenly struck by the ridiculousness of the scenario, the ridiculousness of being here, so close to Alec when to touch Max meant death. He didn't even _like_ Alec, and the feeling of skin on skin made him think of Max and everything he couldn't have.

Logan pushed the following thoughts (_tongue, teeth, a warm body under his_) away and looked over injuries that weren't serious enough to require that much focus. No one could blame him for those images; he'd been basically celibate for the past year, and before that—

Alec had gone strangely still under his palms.

He could never feel Max like this, all checked energy and controlled power. He loved Max—but Alec was here, now. Logan splayed the fingers of one hand over Alec's chest, feeling in a way that couldn't be denied as playing doctor anymore.

Alec had a joke for every occasion, though. "I'd have asked you to buy me dinner if I knew you'd be--" He trailed off, his voice breathy and a little high. Logan could feel his breath hitching under his hand.

"This isn't a date." Logan said finally, and kissed him.

* * *

In bed with Alec. It shouldn't surprise Logan how aggressive the transgenic is--why would he act any different between the sheets of Logan's four-poster tonight than he does every day by the pool tables at Crash? He's all hard angles and power, every kiss is teeth and maybe coppery-red undertaste, and Logan wonders why he ever compared this boy to Max.

But then, how would he know anything about sex with Max? Logan buries that thought and just _feels_.

Finally, when he's thrusting into tight _heat_ and sucking his own mark over Manticore's on the back of Alec's neck, Logan hopes desperately that this will be worth the guilt that comes with daylight.

* * *

Logan is alone when he wakes up the next morning, and that suits him fine.


End file.
